


Definitely Not Laughing

by padaholic_316



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Sam, Crossdressing Kink, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Lace Panties, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam In Panties, Sam in a Skirt, Schmoop, Shameless Smut, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, slight breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padaholic_316/pseuds/padaholic_316
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a gym bag mishap at school. Dean later catches him admiring some clothes that definitely aren't his, and he wants Sam to put them on. Sam agrees, but makes Dean promise not to laugh. </p><p>No laughter ensues. A lot of really hot sex does, though. </p><p>(One-shot. First-time Wincest, slight underage -- Sam is 17.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitely Not Laughing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arikanana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arikanana/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by fanart I found on konashman's Instagram page, @may.contain.brother.touching and I started it a month ago and thought it would be up in a day at the most. Well, THAT didn't happen, but here it is, finally complete!!! To everyone who was waiting endlessly for this fic, thank you for your amazing patience. 
> 
> This is, essentially, a PWP one-shot about first-time Wincest involving/instigated by Sam in a skirt and panties. Also, this is my first attempt at writing porn! As always, any and all feedback greatly appreciated. Enjoy!!!

[The fanart that inspired this fic](http://instagram.com/p/rnobbPhHrR/?modal=true)

 

 

"Come on, Sam! What the hell are you doin' in there, puttin' on makeup?"

Sam swallowed hard due to the fact that Dean's sarcastic comment was actually in the ballpark. "No, you jerk, I'm... I'll be out in a minute, okay?" he called as he shimmied back into his pants. 

"It's already been  _ten_ minutes!" came the retort. "And dude, I gotta piss like a damn racehorse. Are you... decent?"

"What?!?" 

"Ya know... decent. Pants on, nothing hangin' out --"

" _God,_  Dean, I get it! And... yes, I'm decent, but why --"

The bathroom door swung open and Dean strode in. _Dammit, really should've locked that._ Apparently his brother had to pee too badly to wait for Sam to leave.

Which was really unfortunate for Sam.

Who was, at the moment, panicking.

Dean couldn't possibly know his little brother had been thinking about  _him,_ but what he could (and would) easily deduce from the item Sam was currently holding would be bad enough. Knowing it was too little far too late, he shoved the incriminating evidence into the gym bag and started to zip it up. 

But, of course, Dean was onto him. "Whattaya got there, Sammy?" he asked, swiftly yanking the bag out of Sam's grip and pulling the zipper fully open.

"It's not mine, I swear!" Sam cried as a last-ditch defense as Dean's eyes widened upon seeing the contents of the bag. 

"Care to explain, Sam?" he asked slowly.

"It's not mine," Sam reiterated as Dean continued to stare at the cheerleader's uniform. 

"I figured that," Dean replied, fingering the hem of the red miniskirt Sam had just shoved into the bag. "I was thinkin' more along the lines of why you have it and how you got it." 

"It was an accident," Sam said quickly, his words tumbling together. "The basketball team had practice at the same time as the cheerleaders today, and after practice I was coming out of the locker room and I crashed into this big group of cheerleaders, and a bunch of them dropped their gym bags, and I dropped mine too. So I apologized, picked up my bag and left. Well... I  _thought_  it was my bag. It looks exactly the same as my gym bag, I swear," he finished defensively. Dean's expression was unreadable. 

There was silence for several long moments before Dean spoke. "So what exactly have you been doing in here with this --" he lifted up the skirt and stared hard at Sam -- "for the past ten minutes?" 

Sam blushed bright red and looked down, away from his brother's piercing gaze. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"Uh huh." Dean's eyes narrowed when Sam glanced up at him, causing the youngest Winchester's gaze to return immediately to the ugly yellow bathroom floor. "And since when does 'nothing' take ten minutes?"

Silence again. 

Suddenly, Sam found the bright red skirt hanging in front of his face. He looked up in surprise and saw Dean holding it out to him, eyes dark with something unreadable. He shoved the skirt into Sam's hands.

"Put it on," Dean growled.

Sam was instantly,  _blindingly_ hard.

"W-what?" 

"You heard me. Either you tell me exactly what you've been doing and thinking about doing in here for the past ten minutes," Dean said slowly, his voice an octave lower than normal, "or you put on the skirt and show me." 

Sam stood there, mouth hanging open, eyes anywhere but on his brother, desperately trying to figure a way out of this situation. And trying to figure out why the hell Dean wanted him to wear the skirt so badly. Other than for future blackmail and a good laugh, of course. But for some reason, from the way Dean was acting, Sam got the feeling that's not what his brother had in mind. 

_Could it be..._

Somehow, Sam basically found himself agreeing to wear a miniskirt in front of his brother. "You have to promise not to laugh," he said hesitantly. 

He slowly looked up and noticed Dean was staring at his crotch, where Sam's arousal was obvious. And at that moment, Sam noticed Dean had a matching bulge in his own jeans. 

Their eyes met, hazel and green barely visible around two sets of lust-blown pupils. And in the span of just several seconds, the brothers had an entire silent conversation. 

_You're just excited about the skirt, right? Nothing else?_

_Oh, yeah, sure. Just as much as you are, apparently._

_I... it's not about the skirt as much as..._

_As what, baby boy?_

_...You, Dean._

_You want me?_

_Never wanted anyone else. You hate me, don't you?_

_I want you right back, Sammy._

_...Really? You sure? You're not just saying that to make me feel-_

_I've always wanted you, baby boy. I love you more than anything. Want every part of you._

_...Thank God. Me too. I feel exactly the same way, Dean, but what will other people think-_

_No one else has to know._

_I know, but what if people find out-_

_Screw the rest of the world, Sammy. Do you really think love this strong could ever be wrong?_

_...No. I love you so much, Dean._

_Me too, baby boy. So goddamn much._

Only the two last lines of the conversation were spoken aloud.

"I promise, I will not laugh."

And then Dean's gentle smile turned into a wide and dirty grin.

"Now put on the skirt." 

 

 

-=-=-=-=-

 

 

Sam didn't even consider trying to put the top on. The tiny white blouse with 'Spartans' in sparkly red script across the chest didn't really appeal to him at all, or at least not nearly as much as the skirt did. Plus, he doubted he'd even be able to get it on -- it was a small, according to the tag, and the material was so flimsy and thin, his broad shoulders might even rip right through it. 

Plus, Dean hadn't mentioned that he wanted to see him in the top -- just the skirt. So Sam didn't worry about it. 

The skirt was a small, too, but luckily, Sam's waist was so tiny, he had no problem slipping into it. The elastic waistband fit perfectly around his narrow hips, and he felt pretty damn sexy in that tiny, bright red skirt. 

Which probably wasn't normal for a dude, but oh well. Neither was having a crush on your brother. 

Neither was having  _sex_ with your brother. 

Which, Sam was pretty sure, was what was gonna happen when he came out of the bathroom. 

How they had that entire conversation just by looking at each other, Sam had no idea, but he was incredibly grateful it wasn't out loud, since that probably would've turned VERY awkward. He also had no doubt whatsoever that he and Dean were on exactly the same page now, which was also an immense relief. 

And, of course, an intense turn-on. Seeing as he was about to have sex in a cheerleader's skirt. 

He left his white wife-beater on  _(Dean will probably like how tight it is)_ , and once the skirt was on, he decided to go commando. Not like he was gonna need the underwear, anyways. 

But as his hand reached the doorknob, he froze. He'd almost forgotten. He'd actually discovered the bag mix-up a little earlier than he'd let on to Dean, and once he'd seen the skirt, he'd stopped by a certain store on the way home from school and picked up an item he'd told the cashier was for his girlfriend. And he'd shoved it into the small zippered pocket inside the gym bag and forgotten about it. 

He reached into the bag, unzipped the pocket, and pulled out the tiny scrap of fabric. He ripped the tag off and smiled as he imagined what Dean's reaction would be. 

_If he likes the skirt, he's gonna LOVE this._

Sam quickly pulled on the black lace panties, straightened the skirt to cover them, and opened the bathroom door. 

 

 

-=-=-=-=-

 

 

The motel they were in was a fairly recent construction, so the bathroom door was well-oiled and opened silently. Dean was standing next to his bed, facing the other way, clearly unaware that Sam was standing there. Sam took the opportunity to lean against the wall to his right in what he hoped was a seductive pose, and he gently kicked the bathroom door shut. 

When Dean heard the door close, he turned around, and his mouth dropped into a perfect 'O', his eyes as wide as Sam had ever seen them. He quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and started breathing deeply. 

_He's trying not to laugh._

Sam felt the disappointment and hurt like a physical blow. He could've  _sworn_  Dean had been turned on by the thought of Sam in the skirt... 

He leaned his arm up against the wall and turned his face into the crook of his elbow miserably. 

"Sammy..." he heard Dean whisper breathlessly. 

Sam lifted his head up a little and turned it to the side, still not really looking at his brother. "You  _promised_ not to laugh!" he said, hating how petulant he sounded. 

He dared a glance at Dean, whose brow was furrowed, like he was confused at what Sam had said. And who was staring unblinkingly at how tightly the tiny little skirt hugged Sam's ass. A spark of hope jumped to life in Sam's chest.  _Maybe I was wrong..._

Dean, clearly reluctantly, dragged his gaze away from the skirt to look Sam in the eyes. "Oh, I'm  _definitely_ not laughing," he said, his voice somehow even lower than it had been earlier. 

Sam almost collapsed with relief. He  _had_ misconstrued the situation, thank God. Dean wasn't trying not to laugh. He was so turned on he could barely breathe. 

And that turned Sam on so much that  _he_ could barely breathe.

And then, suddenly, they were kissing. Sam didn't remember making any conscious decision to move, but he was suddenly standing in the middle of the room, hungrily licking at his brother's plush pink lips. The kisses turned open-mouthed quickly, and their tongues collided, sliding against each other, swirling -- and then Dean took complete control, grabbing the side of Sam's face with one hand and his hair with the other, tongue-fucking his mouth, and  _Jesus,_ Sam was gonna come in his pants (well, panties) just from a  _kiss._

Dean seemed to sense how close Sam was, though, and he pulled back. Sam let out a pathetic little whimper, but he didn't even  _care,_ because he needed Dean more than he needed fucking  _oxygen_ right then. Dean seemed to sense that too, though, and he let out a dark chuckle. 

"I know, baby boy," he rasped. "Gotta get these off, though." And within three seconds, Dean was entirely naked. 

And when Sam saw Dean's cock, giant and red and fully erect, a shiny drop of precome at the tip, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and press his hand against the base of his own dick to keep from coming right then and there. 

When Sam opened his eyes again, Dean was standing back a few feet and off to the side, in front of his bed, staring at the skirt. Well, at Sam's ass in the skirt, more specifically. 

"You want me to fuck you, Sammy?" he growled, and holy  _shit_ , if Sam got any harder he was going to  _explode._ "Want me to fuck you wide open wearin' that pretty little skirt?" 

"Please, Dean," he whined, not caring that he probably sounded like a whore. "Please fuck me,  _God_ , want you so bad." 

Dean's grin was almost feral. "Then get over here." 

Sam almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to Dean -- and as soon as he did, Dean spun him around and shoved him, face-down, onto the bed. "God, you look so fuckin' sexy in that skirt, got no idea what you do to me, baby boy," he whispered, grinding down hard into Sam, licking and biting his shoulders, pushing the skirt between his little brother's ass cheeks and fucking his cock between them, sliding over the smooth red cotton. "So fuckin' hot, Sammy." 

Sam was so lost in trying to push back into Dean's thrusts, trying to push forward to get some friction on his own dick, and trying desperately not to come yet that he almost missed it when Dean froze. He started when Dean suddenly pushed the skirt up off his ass entirely. 

Oh. 

Dean had discovered the panties. 

There was silence for a solid twenty seconds. Sam didn't dare to move, to look behind him. Then, finally, Dean said, "Jesus  _fuck,_ Sammy," in a voice so hoarse with shock and lust that it sounded like he'd been screaming for hours. "Jesus fucking  _Christ --_ " 

And then Dean was on him again, positively ferocious now, attacking his mouth, fucking between his ass cheeks again but this time, without the skirt in the way, there was some skin-on-skin  _and_  he was rubbing up against the panties, and oh fuck, that pulled them tighter against his dick, and now there was friction, but still not enough, just a tiny amount compared to what he wanted, what he  _needed --_

And then Dean flipped him over, so he was lying on his back, and pulled Sam's wife-beater off with one swift yank. "Fucking lace  _panties,_ Sam, Jesus, where the hell did you even  _get_ those -- no, don't answer that, doesn't matter." He locked his gaze with Sam's, surprise and lust and love shining clearly out of his eyes. "You wore those for  _me,_ Sammy?" 

Sam nodded, smiling almost bashfully up at his brother. "All for you, Dean." 

Dean let out a soft breath, like he couldn't believe it was true, and looked at Sam like -- like he was the most precious thing ever to exist. Sam loved when his brother looked at him like that. But now was not the time for sentimentality. 

He decided to go for a transition. "Love you, Dean," he said, meaning it with all his heart, then grinding up into his brother's hips, and oh holy Christ, the friction of Dean's bare dick on his panty-clad one was  _perfect._ "Want you." 

And just like that, the sex-crazed Dean was back. "Want you too, baby boy," he said, setting up a slow rhythm, rolling his hips gently into Sam's, the panties providing delicious friction as the lace scratched up against both their cocks. Dean couldn't keep it gentle for long, which was fine with Sam, and soon his brother was rutting into him hard and fast,and Sam was right on the edge again -- but he still didn't want to come yet. Not until Dean's dick was up his ass. 

And so he told Dean as much. Dean, of course, was  _very_  on board with that plan. "Gonna make love to you first, Sammy," he said, gently pulling the skirt down Sam's legs. "Gonna make your first time so good, baby boy." 

Dean tried to pull the panties off, but Sam stopped him. "I'll agree to that on one condition," he said. "You can make love to me first, but then you have to  _fuck_  me." 

Dean shuddered, reaching down to press against his dick. "I promise, Sammy," he replied. 

Once the panties were off, Dean reached over Sam to the nightstand and pulled out some lube and a condom. Sam immediately objected to the latter. Dean disagreed.

"Sammy, we should be safe --"

"I know you get tested sometimes, Dean." 

"How do you --" 

"Overheard you talking about it once, but that's not the point. Have you been with anyone since the last time you got tested?" 

"...No, but --" 

"And those test results came back fine, right? You were clean?" 

"...Well, yeah, but --" 

"I've never been with anyone, Dean." At that, Dean looked down at his brother in surprise. Sam merely nodded in confirmation, adding, "Guy or girl. I've had a couple kisses, but nothing past that, ever." He looked Dean in the eye, knowing this would sell it. "And I wanna feel  _all_ of you."

Dean blinked. Then he tossed the condom over his shoulder and basically dove on top of Sam, kissing him and rubbing against him and licking at the little mole next to his nose, and Sam was grabbing at any part of Dean he could reach, his hair, his shoulders, his back -- 

And suddenly there was a finger at his entrance, somehow already cold and slick with lube, and Sam barely had time to wonder  _when did that happen?_ before it was pressing gently into him, just the tip pushing inside, and Sam tensed instinctively, but  _oh, wow,_ he did  _not_ expect to like that as much as he instantly did. In a matter of seconds, he was pushing back against the finger thrusting into him, silently begging for more, and there was a quiet "Holy  _fuck,_ Sammy, so fucking  _tight --_ " before a second finger pressed in alongside the first. 

It was a strange feeling, there was no question about it, but for some reason Sam couldn't explain, he absolutely loved it. He was moaning and writhing on the bed like a two-dollar whore as his brother fucked him with two fingers, twisting them inside him, scissoring to get him open, pushing deeper and harder and -- 

 _"FUCK!"_ Sam shouted, jumping a mile as Dean brushed up against what could only be his prostate, and Dean snickered above him, seeking out that spot again and not moving away once he found it, just rubbing the tips of those two fingers against his prostate relentlessly, and Sam couldn't do anything but shake and pant and oh  _fuck,_ he was so close -- 

And then the fingers were gone, and Sam whimpered again, still not caring, and Dean whispered, "Shh, baby boy, one more --" and then there were three fingers, all at once, and Dean was fucking him  _hard_ with them, ramming them in and out of Sam's ass, thrusting and twisting and hitting his prostate every other try, and his other arm was pinning Sam's shoulders to the bed, holding him there so he had no choice but to just  _take_ it, and yes, Jesus, this was amazing, but it wasn't Dean's fingers he wanted to come on. 

He reached out and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, prompting him to stop for a second. "Make love to me," he whispered. "Please, De?" 

The shortened form of his big brother's name did it, as Sam knew it would. "Okay, Sammy, okay," he replied, pulling his fingers out and reaching for the lube again. "Just one second, baby boy." 

Dean slicked himself up quickly, and then he tried to turn Sam onto his stomach, but Sam was having none of it. 

"It'll be better for your first time if --"

"I don't care, Dean, I just wanna see you. Need to see you." 

"...All right, whatever you want, Sammy." 

There was a moment of nervous anticipation as Dean lined up, and then -- 

It hurt, but not as much as Sam had expected it to, as Dean slowly sunk his cock into Sam's ass. He was gentle, careful, making sure Sam wasn't showing any signs of distress, which he wasn't, and it seemed to take forever for him to bottom out, but eventually, his hips were snug against Sam's. 

Dean let out a harsh breath, his face turned into Sam's neck. " _Jesus,_ Sammy, tightest fuckin' thing I've ever  _felt_ \--" and then he gave an experimental slow roll of his hips, not pulling out of Sam at all, just pushing his hips harder against Sam's and moving up a tiny bit, shifting his cock inside Sam, twisting it just a little, and  _shit,_ Sam needed more. 

"C'mon, Dean,  _fuck_ , can you just  _move_ already?" 

Dean captured Sam's mouth again instead of answering him. Sam lost himself in the passionate kiss, so much so that he gasped in surprise when Dean actually complied with his request and slowly pulled his cock partially out of Sam and just as slowly pushed back in. 

"Oh,  _God_ \--"

" _Fuck,_ Sammy --" 

And then Dean really started to move. Not at a punishing pace, but not too slow either -- and Sam had been worried that Dean was gonna treat him like glass at first, but that didn't seem to be a problem. Dean was holding back a little, but only to make it last longer for both of them. It still wasn't enough, though, and Sam knew he probably really did sound like a whore, but he couldn't stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"More, Dean,  _please_ \--" 

Dean didn't speed up at all, but he did change his angle bit by bit until he found Sam's prostate. And as soon as he heard Sam's gasp indicating he'd found the sweet spot, he -- infuriatingly -- slowed down. He still thrust hard into Sam, shoving his whole cock in and almost all the way out every time, the mushroom head catching on Sam's rim as he pulled out and pushing impossibly deep into him on the thrusts, but he'd slowed down enough that the jolts of pleasure from Dean hitting his prostate were far enough apart that he wasn't on the edge anymore, needed more, needed  _faster --_

But he said nothing. It was the sweetest kind of torture, and he wanted to just take whatever Dean gave him. 

Of course, Dean wasn't giving him much of a choice in that department. At least not physically. Sam had no doubt that if he told his brother to stop, he would without hesitation, but right now, Dean was pressed completely on top of Sam, face to face, chest to chest, Dean's hands holding down Sam's forearms, stomachs separated enough to allow for Dean to thrust as deeply as he could that Sam's dick was being just barely rubbed between Dean's abs and his own, Dean sucking on Sam's tongue like it was a Popsicle as he shoved his cock in and out of Sam's tight, tight heat, and slowly, finally, it was building, Dean's thrusts getting faster and less controlled, Sam being jolted slightly with the force now, slowly being driven up the bed by Dean's pistoning hips slamming against Sam's own as his cock rammed home faster and harder and again and again and -- 

Dean abruptly pushed himself up so he was kneeling on the bed, pulling Sam's legs up onto his shoulders, his thrusts not missing a beat, and  _oh shit,_ Dean was hitting his prostate even  _more_ at this angle, and Sam was fairly sure he was moaning or whimpering or something, but he could not possibly care less at the moment because every fucking thrust was the best thing Sam had ever felt, and he was getting so close -- oh  _God,_ Sam was about to come untouched, just on Dean's cock -- 

But then, suddenly, unexpectedly, there was friction on his cock. Dean's hand, but not  _just_ Dean's hand. Sam looked down -- 

And Dean had the panties in his hand. 

Dean was jerking Sam off with Sam's black lace panties wrapped around his hand. 

Sam came harder than he ever had in his  _life._

It seemed to last forever. He thrashed on the bed, shouting incoherently, the strength of the orgasm literally whiting his vision out, hopelessly lost in the most intense pleasure he'd ever felt, and Dean worked him through it, his panty-wrapped hand on Sam's cock never pausing, hips still fucking relentlessly into Sam, his cock nailing his writhing brother's prostate over and over, until Sam finally, slowly, came down. He opened his eyes to find that his vision had returned just in time to witness the beautiful sight of his brother coming. 

Dean's mouth fell open as he pounded erratically into Sam, and he screwed his eyes shut as he started to come, throwing his head back, grabbing Sam's hips with both hands and thrusting all the way in, holding there, not pulling out, just grinding and twisting his cock as deep inside Sam as he could possibly get, making the most beautiful little high-pitched gasping moans as he emptied his come into Sam's ass, and  _God,_ he was the most gorgeous, perfect thing Sam had ever seen. 

Once both brothers' heart rates were significantly closer to normal again, Dean basically fell on top of Sam, both of them completely fucked-out and sated, and neither with the energy or willpower to move.

After a few minutes, though, Sam groaned with discomfort as his left arm started to fall asleep from the awkward angle at which Dean was collapsed on top of him. 

"Dean, should we clean up?" he mumbled into his brother's shoulder. 

He expected Dean to be mostly asleep and grumpy about the thought of moving. He did  _not_ expect Dean to raise his head and look straight into his eyes, clearly energized and... Sam could only describe the look as lascivious. His so recently spent cock, somehow, jumped right back to life when Dean growled: 

"Ready for round two, baby boy?" 

 

 

-=-=-=-=-

 

 

Sam was partially dressed again -- sort of. Just the panties and the skirt. 

Dean was basically pretending he was a chick he'd found at a party and taken upstairs to fuck. 

He had Sam up against the wall, facing forward, and they were kissing, rubbing up against each other, Dean's denim-covered dick (he'd put just his jeans back on) slowly grinding against Sam's, which was tenting the skirt obscenely. 

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby," Dean whispered into Sam's mouth. "Gonna fuck you through the goddamn mattress." 

"Oh,  _shit_ yes," Sam whimpered. 

Suddenly, Dean had him by the shoulders, and Sam was being spun, walked backwards a few steps, and  _shoved_ onto the bed. He spread his legs as he fell onto his back, giving Dean access, and Dean immediately lunged forward and mouthed at Sam's cock over the skirt, and even through two layers of fabric, it still felt so good that Sam had to almost bite through his lip to keep himself from yelling. 

Dean raised his head. "None of that, baby," he commanded. "I wanna hear you scream for me." His fingers slipped under the skirt and rubbed gently along the length of Sam's dick over the panties. "Gonna make you scream so loud  _everyone_ downstairs will hear us, even over the music." His other hand suddenly shot up and gave Sam's right nipple a vicious twist, and Sam gasped in shock, hips instinctively canting upward as his breath caught in his throat. "Everyone on the fuckin'  _block_  is gonna hear you screamin' my name before I'm done with you."

_Oh, holy motherfucking shit..._

Sam was so screwed. 

Literally. 

But Dean didn't go back to Sam's cock -- at least, not right away. He gently straightened the skirt so that it was once again covering everything, then he slowly crawled up the bed, passionately kissing Sam once he reached his head. Sam once again surrendered instantly when Dean moved to take control, and he thrust his hips up instinctively again when Dean started sucking on Sam's bottom lip. They both got lost in the kiss for a minute, enthralled in the heat and slickness of each other's mouths, but eventually Dean started to wander, licking Sam's jawline, his earlobe, his neck, lightly grazing teeth over a pulse point, slowly moving down to Sam's left clavicle and abruptly biting down  _hard,_ but immediately moving on, not giving Sam any time to do anything other than gasp loudly, and before he could even moan, Dean's tongue was trailing between Sam's pecs, then back up and over the nipple he'd twisted earlier, and oh  _Jesus --_

Dean quickly realized how sensitive Sam was here and lavished attention on the tiny nub, flicking it with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, and Sam had completely given up on trying to be quiet by the time Dean moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. Sam was incoherent by the time Dean moved on, tongue tracing the line between Sam's abs, dipping quickly into his navel, but trailing off to one side once it reached his happy trail, and it looked like Dean was about to bypass Sam's cock entirely, prompting Sam to let out a long whine of complaint. 

Dean chuckled. "Patience, baby, I'll get there eventually." He pulled the skirt down enough to expose the tops of Sam's hipbones, and he licked and nuzzled his way down the left side until he reached the edge of the skirt, then he licked a stripe across to the other hipbone, tongue staying just above the waistband of the skirt, which was low enough now that Sam's straining cock was at the edge of it, so as Dean's tongue passed above his cock, it was so infuriatingly close that he could feel Dean's hot breath on his cockhead. 

_"Dean --"_

"All in good time, baby boy." Dean took just as much time with the other hipbone, then, instead of pushing the skirt down and off like Sam had expected him to, he pushed it up, so it rucked up above his waist, panties exposed again. He licked at the head of Sam's cock through the lace, and Sam couldn't keep his hips on the bed. 

"Ah, ah, ah." Dean moved away, standing next to the bed. "Not yet, baby. You want somethin' from me, I want somethin' back." 

And  _ohGodyes,_ this was the perfect opportunity. "Do you wanna fuck my mouth?" Dean's jaw dropped. "I want you to fuck my mouth, please, Dean?" 

The look in Dean's eyes was incendiary. "Oh,  _fuck_ yes," he replied, shoving his jeans off and straddling Sam's shoulders, knees pinning him to the bed, and Sam immediately lunged forward and took the head of Dean's cock into his mouth. 

_"Holy SHIT -_

Dean's yell of surprise turned into a long moan of pleasure as Sam went to work on his dick, bobbing up and down, cheeks hollowed, tongue swirling, tracing the vein on the underside then coming up to tease the slit, and Sam was starting to be afraid he'd have to do some real convincing to get Dean to believe that he'd never done this before, based on the noises coming out of Dean's mouth. It was the truth -- Sam had never sucked cock, but Dean's was  _delicious,_ and he just couldn't help his enthusiasm. 

Dean wasn't moving, though, just letting Sam suck him, and that wasn't what Sam wanted. He pulled off with a soft  _pop,_ and Dean let out a loud groan of protest, but still didn't move to control Sam in any way. 

"C'mon, Dean, fuck my mouth. Ride it hard, I  _need_ it --" 

"Sammy, I don't wanna hurt you --"

"You were holding me down before --"

"Holding you down is  _very_ different than this, I don't wanna --"

"You won't be hurting me, Dean, don't you get it? I  _want_ you to be rough, I  _want_ you to use my mouth. Want you to use me like a cheap whore.  _Please._ " 

And that was the end of Dean's resistance. 

After one last look into Sam's eyes to make sure that he was ready, he grabbed Sam's hair and  _yanked_ him forward onto his cock, sinking in more than halfway in one hard thrust, cock head hitting the back of Sam's throat. He pulled Sam off again. "That what you want, baby boy?" 

 _"Yes!"_ Sam cried. "Oh,  _shit_ yeah, want you to fuck my throat until I pass out, choke me out on your cock, Dean, ple-" 

Dean pulled Sam back onto his cock mid-word, holding Sam's head still and fucking rough and fast into his mouth, Sam moaning around Dean and giving all he could with his tongue, sucking hard, but then Dean started  _really_ driving into him and Sam couldn't do much of anything except keep his mouth open, Dean's cock hitting the back of his throat on each thrust, pushing further, and now Sam couldn't  _breathe,_ which is exactly what he wanted. Dean's knees were no longer allowing Sam any room to move, pinning him tightly to the bed as Dean's hands tightened in his brother's hair, hips slamming into Sam's mouth, cock driving into his throat -- and then Dean just held there, Sam's airway completely cut off, and Dean wriggled his hips and wrenched Sam even closer, giving another shove of his hips, sinking as far in as he could possibly go, until Sam's lips were pressed against the base of Dean's cock, face in his pubic hair, unable to move, unable to breathe, and loving every second of it. 

"This what you wanted, you little slut?" Dean growled, and Sam would've moaned around Dean's cock if he could've, the dirty talk turning him on impossibly more. "Bet you're lovin' this, gettin' fuckin'  _suffocated_ on my cock --" His hips jerked forward again, hands still holding Sam's head in place, and Sam tried to gag, would've, but his brother's cock was too deep in his throat, and he was starting to see stars, the need for oxygen making itself known. He couldn't exactly  _do_ anything about it, though, so instead, he started using his tongue again, letting Dean know he _was_ lovingthis, licking at the underside of the shaft as best he could, hollowing his cheeks -- 

And Dean was pushing on his head  _again,_ keeping Sam pressed as far forward on his cock as he could possibly force him, not letting up, and Sam's world went black for just a split second before Dean finally pulled out. Not entirely, though -- just enough so Sam could take in a huge gulp of air through his nose, and then Dean was fucking his mouth again, thrusts not sinking quite as deep but still deep enough that each one cut off Sam's air for a second, huge cock sliding hard and fast over his tongue, Dean moaning and growling the filthiest words -- "fuck, Sammy, got the best fuckin' mouth,  _shit,_  so fuckin' hot, love your tight little throat --" 

Then, suddenly, Dean pulled out and turned around, on his hands and knees above Sam, cock dangling above Sam's face, and lowered himself down, head going down to the black lace panties that were drenched in precome by now, and Dean sucked the head of Sam's aching cock into his mouth  _through the panties._

And he simultaneously drove his cock back into Sam's mouth. 

Sam's orgasm came completely without warning. He shouted around the cock in his mouth, twisting on the bed, and Dean had pulled the panties down a little as soon as he realized Sam was coming and was now just sucking on the bare head of Sam's cock, swallowing down the bursts of come, tonguing the slit, milking it for all it was worth, and Sam may have actually passed out for a few seconds. 

When he came back to awareness, Dean's cock was still in his mouth, the panties were covering his dick again but were being held off to the side lower down, and Dean's tongue was probing at the rim of his hole. And before Sam had time to react to that realization, the tongue was dipping inside, swirling around the rim, probing deeper, and  _fuck,_ it felt so good -- 

And then Dean was locking his lips around the rim and  _sucking,_ tongue-fucking his ass with short, deep jabs, the same way he was fucking Sam's mouth, and Sam still wasn't getting quite enough air between thrusts of Dean's hips, which made it completely impossible to concentrate on anything but the fact that he was getting fucked at both ends, and he  _couldn't_ be getting hard again already, not after he'd just come twice in the past half hour, not to mention one of those being three _minutes_ ago, it just wasn't  _possible --_

But when Dean pulled his cock and tongue out of Sam, roughly flipped him onto his hands and knees and _drove_ intohim from behind unexpectedly -- Sam began to realize that it was, in fact, possible. 

Dean may have taken him without warning, but it wasn't at all painful -- Sam was still plenty loose from before, and Dean's cock was  _very_ slick from the extended amount of time it had spent in Sam's mouth. The panties were still pushed off to the side of his hole, rubbing at the side of Dean's dick and the side of Sam's rim, and the skirt was still up around his waist -- 

And that's when Sam realized that Dean was fucking him in both the skirt and the panties.  _  
_

 _"Fuck,_ Dean, yeah,  _yeah --"_

"So fuckin' pretty in that skirt, baby," Dean rasped, snapping his hips, cock hitting Sam's sweet spot, and Sam was gasping, eyes rolling in pure bliss. "Gonna fuck you just like a girl, you want that, Sammy?"

And when Sam nodded, Dean grabbed his hair with one hand and  _pulled,_  yanking Sam's head back as heshoved in to the hilt, holding Sam's waist with the other hand and grinding his hips slowly against Sam's ass. Sam physically shuddered with pleasure. 

"You like that, baby boy?" Dean growled, hand tightening in Sam's hair. Sam could only whimper in reply. 

"Yeah, thought you would." And if Sam thought Dean had been fucking him hard the first time around, it was  _nothing_ compared to now. Dean started absolutely _pile-driving_ his cock into Sam's ass, fucking him like he needed it to live, hips pounding with bruising force, hands still tight on Sam's waist and in his hair, and Sam would've collapsed onto his stomach within a few seconds if not for the hand in his hair, letting Dean attempt to fuck him through the mattress, through the floor, through the fucking  _planet --_

Their mouths met over Sam's right shoulder, at an awkward angle but neither brother gave a shit, Sam keening uncontrollably into Dean's mouth, Dean panting and grunting with the effort of impaling Sam on his cock again and again and again, hips never stopping, cock pulverizing Sam's tight virgin ass, sheathed in burning heat, twisting and pulling and thrusting faster and faster --

And it was both far too long and not long enough before Sam and Dean were coming together, Dean emptying a second load of come into Sam's ass, Sam literally unable to even make a sound as his oversensitized cock shivered and pulsed against the lace panties, coming untouched and completely dry, and the brothers kissed each other through the most intense orgasms either of them had ever experienced, writhing in each other's arms, joined together in every way possible. 

A few minutes later, they were falling asleep, Sam curled in Dean's arms, and they were happier than they had ever been before. 

 _Screw the rest of the world,_ Sam thought, echoing Dean's earlier unspoken words as he snuggled in closer to his soul mate, his brother, the love of his life, and drifted off to sleep. 

_Love this strong can never be wrong._

 

 

-=-=-=-=-

 

 

 


End file.
